


The Reality of Nightmares

by trouvera



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, NCIS
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 03:31:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6687427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trouvera/pseuds/trouvera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What connection does Tony have to the ancient and venerable Watchers Council? A series of drabbles(ish) tells the story. (Posted on ff. net as No Bete Noir is Baseless, but I like this title better.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Usual disclaimers: not mine, no profit, no infringement intended. 

 

 

**I. 1967**

**Audrey Hepburn**

Seventeen year old Lady Elizabeth Paddington sat in the screening room of the manor house watching the credits for Roman Holiday and decided that whatever it took she would manage one of her own when she was on her grand tour after graduation. Even if Papa insisted she check in with the Italian branch of the Council and arranged for a chaperone, it shouldn’t be too much trouble to slip her leash while in Rome. After all, once she was back the rest of her life was planned, she deserved the break. The highly selective (and secretive) Occult Studies program at Oxford, then specialized studies at one of the Council approved programs, subject to be determined based on the council’s need. But before she had to be Lady Elizabeth Paddington, Duchess of Richmond (with family lines to both English and Russian royalty, not to mention 12 field watchers in 8 generations) she was going to be Audrey Hepburn.

 

 

**II. 1969**

**Anthony Donato DiNozzo**

“You’ve always said that Edward abdicating was one of the most romantic things you’d ever seen. I love him, and he loves me. I don’t care that he’s Catholic. I don't care that to hear you tell it he’s nothing more than a common loud-mouth American. And I certainly don’t care about some out dated title that only dooms me to marrying some equally trapped Council approved dullard and popping out more little Lords and Ladies waiting to become Watchers. Clive has always wanted it, he can have it, and everything that goes along with it. I’m going to marry Anthony, Mum. I’m moving to America and I’m going to be simply Mrs. Anthony DiNozzo. We’re going to live in New York, I’m going to eat my breakfast at Tiffany’s at least once a week, and we’ll go to the top of the Empire State Building, and walk barefoot in Washington Square Park and we’re going to be happy. You can support me or not, but that’s not going to change anything except whether or not you get the benefit of my Council-trained brains for Council research.”

 

 

**III. 1971**

**Anthony Dimitri DiNozzo**

“Oh Mum, you should see him! He’s a darling boy. We named him Anthony, after his father of course, who insists on calling him “Junior”, even though he really isn’t since we’ve settled on Dimitri for a middle name - after Great Grandpapa. It’s silly, but I’ve had to explain to the neighbors that the Russians in our family are royalty and not revolutionaries. Not that anyone really cares that there are Romanovs in the family tree only that there might be “Commie Reds” living next door. Anthony finds it amusing – when he isn’t calling little Tony “Junior” he calls him his tiny tsar. I wish he was around a bit more, but he works so hard, and the business is doing well after those few rough patches. We’ve finally moved from our apartment, even if it is just to a small house in Queens. Thank you so much for sending Fiona to us. The neighbors just don’t seem to understand that an English child needs an Irish nanny in the house. And I feel so much better with a Potential around, even if she wasn’t Chosen.”

 

**IV. 1973**

**Nikki Wood**

Dear Mr. and Mrs. DiNozzo,

Please accept our sincerest thanks for the use of your lovely Long Island estate for the Cruciamentum for Slayer Nikki Wood. Completing this ritual away from the risks of a highly populated area like Manhattan was essential to maintaining secrecy for the Council. Since she had never visited your new home, the element of complete geographic novelty for Slayer Wood was an additional bonus.

 

We deeply regret that in the course of the Slayer completing the Cruciamentum members of your household were placed at risk. Ms. Wood has been appropriately disciplined and Lord Wyndham-Price assures us that the serum will effectively remove all conscious memories of their captivity and the subsequent death of Miss Fiona from young Master Anthony’s mind. We will of course provide for a new nanny for Anthony, as well as any future medical services needed to address the physical scarring.


	2. Chapter 2

**V**

**1978-1979  
**

**The Box**

Anthony DiNozzo’s import/export business was doing extraordinarily well, by any and every measure. The legit side was generating more than enough traffic to hide the less-honorable aspects, both physically and financially. So when a request came to him through unofficial channels to transport an item from Hungary without interference from US Customs, and the person delivering the request was possessed of that posh English accent and numerous titles he figured it was just more “Council Business” for his wife and did as asked, accepting the cash without asking questions. A few more opportunities like this and he might be able to leave the deal making behind, might be able to finally look the sneering “Lord Paddington” in the eye and say he could take care of Elizabeth just fine on his own, without generations of other people’s money and labor behind him. He certainly didn’t make any connections between this and the arrival of Junior’s new tutor - a distant “used to be royal” relative escaping from behind the Iron Curtain and needing something to do.

 

**The Tutor**

Eight year old Anthony DiNozzo was not exactly thrilled with his new tutor, but if he had to dress in sailor suits he was just as happy not to have to leave the house to go to school. Father said he was too old for a nanny, and Mummy said that a live in tutor was the answer. In the language of boys though, the dude was just weird. He always kept his window shades closed, and never went out in the sun, didn’t play sports at all. The worst was when he greeted Tony “the European way” with a kiss to both cheeks – Tony swore that he was being sniffed. He began to suspect that something really wasn’t right when he came back from altar boy training with a piece of communion wafer stuck in his back teeth. When Mr. Vladden went to kiss his cheek, he jumped back and hissed – and it looked like his lips were suddenly very chapped. Tony was going to ask his mum about it, but she had been so very tired lately. The doctor said it was something called anemia, but there was something bugging Tony that just wouldn’t let go.

 

 

**The Family Business**

“I’m very mixed up mummy. I’m sad that you’re sick, but I’m glad we get to watch movies together. Can we watch Angels With Dirty Faces again? I really like that one. Oh, and can we go see Dracula this weekend? Sir Laurence Olivier is in it so it must be good. Uncle Clive was telling me that I had to learn all about vampires so I can join the family business when I grow up. I thought the family business was shipping mum, isn’t it? Vampire hunting sounds much more exciting than just making papers that say what’s in a box. That’s what I saw when Father took me to the office last week before he went to Spain, just lots of papers and stuff. But a vampire hunter gets to protect people and go scary places and be a hero, that’s what I want to do. I want to rescue good people from bad things. Don’t you think that would be a good thing to do?”

 

“Mummy’s tired sweetheart. We’ll see about a movie this weekend if I’m feeling better. Would you find Mr. Vladden and ask, if it’s not too much trouble, if he could come by my room to talk about your lessons. There’s a good boy.”

 

 

**The Sea Monkeys**

Tony had asked Uncle Clive how to tell if someone was a vampire and after a few careful tests, he was pretty sure that Mr. Vladden was one. But Father already thought he watched too many movies and didn’t like Grandpapa or Uncle Clive too much to begin with, so trying to tell him anything that involved a movie monster that was supposed to be make believe _and_ Uncle Clive just wasn’t a good idea. Plus, Father had been in Japan trying to get a contract to import something called MaxBetas or something for a week, and would be staying there for at least one more. His mom had been so sick Mr. Vladden hadn’t even let him see her since Father had left, so Tony decided he’d have to act on his own. After church on Sunday he used his altar-boy privileges to fill up a thermos with holy water. He decided he’d tell the help at home it was for sea monkeys so they wouldn’t think it was strange that he put a big glass of water by his bed. Since Mr. Vladden was away on Sundays he slipped into his mum’s room and put one by her bed too, just in case. She was so still he thought she might be dead, so when he reached out to pat her hand, just to be sure, he certainly wasn’t expecting her to wake up at just that moment, her green eyes golden, her smile fanged, and a clawed hand snatching the glass from his hand, and drinking it down.

 


	3. 1983: RIMA

Anthony DiNozzo set down his tumbler of aged scotch and worked at bringing his son’s face into focus. Then picked his drink back up again when he saw his dead wife’s eyes looking back at him, slurring “You’re a DiNozzo goddammit, not a Paddington. Lord Clive can get his own damn disappointment of a son. You’re not going to go over there and get turned into some fancy prancing Lordling. You killed your mother, you don’t get rewarded for that. Damn English ponce thinks he can tell me how to raise my son. Says he’ll send money to support you but not me. Bastard. Although I suppose he’s right that I should do something so you’ll stop being such vampire bait. Lord knows the way you seem to attract them you’ll end up drained in the gutter somewhere if I don’t. There’s got to be somewhere around here that can keep you in - and everything else out - if I pay them enough.”

 

 

 


	4. 1989 - Chi Delta Rho

“Jeezis fucking Kee-rist DiNozzo, what the hell was that??!! This is supposed to be a pledge class scavenger hunt, not goddamn Fright Night! Holy shit. Okay. What the….alright. First, you’re going to the hospital, just…you’re drunk and you tripped and landed funny, on a garden rake? Barbecue fork? okay? Actually, don’t say a damn thing or we’ll all end up in the psych wing. Then we’re going back to the house and changing your fucking pledge name to Van Helsing.”


	5. 199?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever notice that if you work backward from Tony starting NCIS (2003), and forward from his pledge date (presumably his freshman year in college), allow 5 years to do the undergrad due to injuries, take into account 2 years each at Peoria, Philadelphia, and Baltimore, there's still a few missing years?

**The Missing Year**

Tony had hoped that even though that freaking Wolverine had ended his hopes for a pro football career, that he might be able to salvage one in basketball. Even if he didn’t make the NBA there were leagues in Canada and Italy where he could make a decent living. It wouldn’t be the big show, but it would be a career in professional sports. Twisting the same knee in the Final Four, and the resulting ACL surgery had put paid to those hopes. And there was that fire in Baltimore to think about; Jason had shoved a cross into his hand before he’d let himself be picked up and Tony would bet his mother’s trust fund that the fire hadn’t been started by someone smoking a cigarette in bed. Senior had said a lot of crap to him when he was a kid, he knew most of it was drunken bullshit but he thought maybe Senior was right about one thing – he did seem to be vampire bait. Maybe it was time to take Uncle Clive up on that offer to spend some time at the Watchers Academy.

 


	6. 1995 / 1996

**Peoria**

“You know that fancy English degree and training doesn’t mean shit here, right? You’ll walk a beat like every other rookie. What the hell is “The Watcher’s Academy” anyway? And how the fuck does a kid with a degree in “Unusual Criminology” from Oxford end up applying to walk a beat in Peoria?”

 

“Well Sir, I’ve always just wanted to help people. My mother’s family has been…cops, of a sort, in England for generations. That is, they all went to that same Academy, so I went there first. I thought about staying but I realized they’re pretty much all stuck up “arses”, so I’ve come back here to the states. My dad’s side of the family believes in working your way up from the bottom, so…I guess I’m trying to maybe honor both sides of the family? Be a cop, but work my way up rather than use family connections to walk in at the top.”

 

**1996**

**More Peoria**

“DiNozzo, goddammit, this was a quiet station until you got here. Now it’s like the goddam X Files. And it’s not like I _give_ you crazy ass cases. I _gave_ you a run of the mill drunk and disorderly pick up at a bar every cop in this precinct has done pick ups at – no problem. _You_ go and its goddam Halloween in February. I put you on a beat that hasn’t had any thing more serious than the proverbial cat in a tree in ten years, and suddenly it’s the fucking epicenter of a goddam drug war. I know it's only been a year, but you passed the detective’s test with flying colors, no surprise there, but even if you hadn’t I’d give you the gold shield just to get you off the goddam street and behind a desk before the town implodes. But do me a favor, would’ya? Look around a bit. You’re originally from out east somewhere, right? I mean, you’re a good kid and all, but maybe think about heading back toward your family. I’d hate to have to call them because the fucking boogie man came after you.”


	7. 1997

**Philadelphia**

Yeah Uncle Clive, I need either a Slayer or a hunter team. They’ve got me undercover with what they think is a mob boss, but he’s not…

Not sure what exactly he is, just that he’s not human, and not a vamp. He’s got a few vamps on in his crew though…

Family name is Macaluso. The consigliore is a surprisingly young guy named Wilkins. Said his uncle out in California wanted him to learn the ropes somewhere a bit safer…

Oh, so she’s really tied up out there. Well, I’ve learned that bullets to the joints and head will usually slow anything down enough to deal with at human strength, but I could still use some back up, at least on the research side, especially figuring out exactly what flavor of not-human he is. …

Great, thanks…yeah, just make sure they can actually pass as American. Or at least as low-life scum from wherever they come from. These guys don’t seem to be too much about nationality, hell they don’t even care if you’re human, but even I can identify the scent of “dusty tomes from English libraries” from a mile away.


	8. 1999

**Baltimore, late summer**

"...What? Two?? Since when? CPR? Well, there you go. Well, about all I can do is issue an Amber Alert but even that’s going to be challenging since Baltimore and Boston are only close alphabetically. You Brits don’t seem to get just how big America really is, and she is way out of my jurisdiction. It doesn’t help that Diana’s guardianship was never legally approved by Boston Family court…

What can I say Uncle Clive, you’re exactly right, it’s America, we have no regard for tradition and the way things have always been done. But if the fates keep sending you American slayers, particularly in multiples, you had better figure out a better way of dealing with it…

…Sure, an American watcher would help with that problem. It would also require the deaths of three existing watchers, and probably _cause_ the deaths of at least six more because their heads would explode just thinking about it…

…Nope, not at all interested, and I’ll keep saying it as long as I need to. Happy to be a contact point, information exchange, whatever I can do on the sidelines, but send her new watcher is to Sunnydale. If she has any brains at all she’s heading for Buffy and Giles."


	9. 2002

**NCIS**

There were more than a few stories about Tony DiNozzo’s early days at NCIS. As people who had actually been there retired, transferred out to other positions, or simply left NCIS altogether their circulation had slowed but grown wilder with each telling – as the best stories are wont to do. One of the favorites was the first time he met Abby. As the story went, she’d been in full on Goth mode and he’d walked up to her and then bent her backwards in one hell of a kiss. In response she’d kneed him in the balls, then slugged him while he was doubled over, and he then came up swinging some wooden something. Gibbs had been shocked stupid, and it had taken Ducky to regain control of the lab.

The truth was that Tony put his hands on her face to check her temperature, then slid them down to her neck to check for a pulse. Then simply leaned over and whispered in her ear that he knew her type, that whether she was a servant, a bite-addict, or something else he’d be watching her and would not hesitate to do whatever it took to stop her if necessary. The Abby and Gibbs response part of the story was…actually pretty accurate.

It had taken Ducky close to a month (and he now owed favors to people at both Scotland Yard and MI6) to confirm that Tony DiNozzo was indeed Lord Paddington’s “notorious American nephew” and was fully aware of the family history and business. After which he was able to facilitate a conversation between the two that cleared the air. In his considered opinion having a young lady with the blood of Marie Laveaux in her veins and a young man with a family touched by Rasputin working together in the same building without at least partial disclosure was just asking for trouble.


	10. 2003

**Kate**

It was not possible, simply not possible. She was too old. Potentials were usually identified between the ages of 8 and 10. Slayers were called in their teens, not in their 30s. It was simply unheard of. But she had cracked two of his ribs with an elbow jab, crushed three phones in five days, was eating like she expected famine to strike at any moment, put Gibbs on the mat – hard – when they sparred on Tuesday, and was starting to look like she hadn’t slept in a week or more. He’d tried getting in touch with Uncle Clive, but he’d been unable to reach him, or Crispian, since the explosion at the Council Headquarters. Suspecting that the “earthquake and resulting giant sinkhole” in Sunnydale was actually related to the London bombing, but not knowing exactly how and being unable to get further information on either event (even Ducky’s usually reliable sources were disturbingly unhelpful) Tony decided he had to do something other than make bionic woman jokes. He started with paper wads, moved up to pencils, super-balls, other random objects of increasing weight and potential danger, and then the tried and true “unexpectedly throw a large knife directly at her head and watch her catch it”.

In hindsight, maybe he should have had Ducky or Abby conduct the final test.


End file.
